they will be everything
by roaritslola
Summary: She's always stuck in the middle of pulling him too close or pushing him too far away. [BBTerra Week 2014]
1. Second Date

**A/N:** BBTerra Week 2014 has officially kicked off! This is my first time writing daily for my OTP but here we go. Let's assume they're both 17 here and hella adorbs.

* * *

She's graduated high school and he's still the green changeling of the Teen Titans and _nothing _has changed.

Except he's entering the hotel and pressing the elevator button to take him to the penthouse and he shouldn't feel this nervous, but he does. He's easily recognized by the doorman who says nothing, just stands aside as he walks out to the roof.

He spots her almost immediately. Golden hair, tan skin, skinny arms and a blue dress that matches her eyes.

She's seated close to the railing next to two girls that he recognizes as Amber and Dionne. Eventually, a blonde boy comes along and asks Dionne to dance. She accepts and looks across her shoulder at Amber. She gives her a thumbs up.

Terra is resting her head in her hand, looking at the couples with a bored expression. And then she catches his eye, and he catches hers and he realizes why they call it eye contact.

He's walking towards her and his heart is in his throat and he thinks he might hurl when-

"You came."

"I did," he breathes. "Dance with me?"

"No, " she stands up, and for the first time in forever, he is taller than her. "I don't dance."

"That's a lie, Terra," he grins.

"That's not my name," she shoots back, her eyes narrowing.

He takes a hesitant step closer to her and snakes his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Amber's eyes widen.

"Fine," Terra responds, her voice breathy. "Let's dance."

And then they're off, twirling along the dance floor, her hands around his neck staring at him with a certain expression that he can't quite pinpoint.

"Why are you here?" she asks him, her brows furrowed.

"I came 'cuz you hate prom and clichés," he tells her, still grinning. "And because I knew I'd make your whole night."

Terra rolled her eyes. "If I see another corsage matched with a tie, I'm gonna hang throw myself off this roof. Can we get out of here?"

Beast Boy laughed. "God, yes please."

* * *

They find themselves in a familar café, sitting in the high seats and eating pie. She catches their reflection in the mirror and realizes how ridiculous they both look like. Herself, in her long white and baby blue gown that trails along her feet and Beast Boy, in his tux with his bowti-and well, actually, Beast Boy doesn't look bad at all.

"Can I get you two anything else?" the waitress asks, her voice nasal and Southern. "Was tonight your prom? You two are just the most darlin' sweethearts."

"Yeah, it was actually," Beast Boy tells her, still smiling (he hasn't stopped smiling since he laid eyes on _her_). "And two more slices of pie, please."

"Why are we back here, Beast Boy?" Terra asks after the waitress leaves. "You can't repeat the past and change the ending."

"So it is you."

She winces.

"There was never really a point in pretending, was there?"

He laughs and takes her hand in his. "Nope, not really." he says, crinkling his nose.

She sighs, resting her head on her knuckles and smiling at him softly. The waitress returns with their slices of pie.

"Have I seen y'all before?" she asks them. "You look strangely familar."

Beast Boy and Terra exchange a look.

"No," they say in unison. "We're brand-new."

* * *

**A/N:** Please don't favourite without reviewing! Also, leave me constructive criticism, it's what I love!


	2. Next Generation

"Tara, I need you to look at me."

Fingertips hard into velvet. Heel tapping against the floor. Don't fidget. He'll know there's tension.

"Tara. Please."

She jerks her head up at that. Eyes red, narrowed. When she pulls her hands away, she's left bloody fingerprints in the expensive upholstery.

"It's not true."

He presses his lips together. Tara mimics him, then twists into a smirk. It's what's expected. Pieces on a board. When she meets his eyes this time, there's no fidgeting. Cold, relentless disinterest. It doesn't matter how old he is, how wise. She's been playing this game since she could talk.

"You're clever," her principal tells her now, looking tired suddenly, hand displacing blond curls, "You are, Tara. So you know that it doesn't matter what you tell me now. In a couple of months, we'll know for sure."

"That's not entirely true, Mr. Fitzgerald."

There is a beat of silence. Mr. Fitzgerald inclines his head to indicate that she should elaborate.

"I'm skinny. It might not show at all. Some girls don't show at all, even in the final months. Plus there's abortions, you know?"

More silence. Terra is tired of these. Just as she is getting ready to stand, to displace, to do something, he pulls his hands out from under the desk, links them and places them on the surface in front of him.

"Let's be frank," he says now, and Terra exhales in relief."I know that this is true. Let's not waste the time of you denying it and going away and me having to prove it. Time's not something you've got much of now."

Terra holds his gaze the entire time. Bravery. That's the Markov royal family saying, right?

"We've had girls in this situation before," her principal continues, "More than you'd think, actually. Not many, but enough. So here's what needs to happen now: you need to make a decision, and you need to make it soon. You could terminate the pregnancy –" (he doesn't flinch or hesitate at all, and Terra's impressed despite herself) "- or you can carry it to term. That's the most immediate choice. It's morality, I suppose, but you need to think about your own particular circumstances too. This isn't – you're not going to be able to just hide this and have the baby and give it up quietly. I'm afraid you don't get that option."

"What will happen, if you decide to carry it to term, is that you will be asked to leave Murakami for the duration of this year. You can have your baby, do with it what you will, and then return and retake the year."

Terra hisses out a breath at this point. Her reluctance must be clear on her face, because Mr. Fitzgerald smiles slightly.

"I guess I should be thankful, then. I understand the majority of private schools advocate expulsion in this situation."

Tara's reply is swift and uncouth. Fitzgerald actually laughs.

"Yes, I thought you might struggle to see it that way." He softens again, face serious. Terra does so wish he didn't frown so often. He's so much handsomer when he smiles. "You'll have another month to decide, okay? If you decide to terminate, you can either go to Planned Parenthood or make your own arrangements, and then just let me know. Slip a note under my door if you like. Whatever you're most comfortable with. But if you decide to keep it, I need to know that too. I'll be here if you want to talk about it at any time, as will the rest of the staff."

Terra's face falls. "They know?"

"They know," Mr. Fitzgerald tells her gently, "You're graduating Murakami. You're heading off for your future. Of course they know. For now, though, that's it. We're not cruel, Terra," he adds now, looking dangerously close to reaching across and patting her hand or something, "I know for you it's more difficult than most."

She withdraws her hands before he allows the temptation to overwhelm him.

"I know, Mr. Fitzgerald," she replies calmly.

By the time she stops talking, she's itching again. He must sense it, because he sighs and steeples his fingers, elbows on the arms of his chair.

"I would go and think about it," he says finally, regarding her with disturbing astuteness. "I would say don't rush into anything, but despite all the evidence to the contrary I actually think you stand a high chance of being more sensible about this than most."

Tara almost manages a smile at that, and flees the room as soon as she is physically able.

* * *

Beast Boy finds her on his bed two hours later.

"Terra," he says. "How was school?"

"Failed my geometry test," she replies, "But so did half the class, so I guess I'm not that hopeless."

He snorts. "You. Hopeless anything. You're insane."

She laughs then, the sound dark and soft in the stillness.

"So, Kid Flash's birthday is coming up and we thought we'd have the party here. Cy bought so much alcohol, can't wait to see Wally intoxicated, it'll be hilari-"

"I can't drink," she cuts him off, looking down at his familiar duvet, not meeting his eyes.

She doesn't have to say anything for him to know why. He doesn't speak either. He just crosses the room and moves onto the bed next to her, one knee against the duvet. By the time his lips meet her temple, she's unfolded herself, breathed out, relaxed.

"No," he murmurs, mouth still against her skin.

She breathes out a "yes", an apology. She promised to tell him the truth. She promised a lot of other things, too, but this is the only one she thinks might stick. When her fingers lift to meet his, he pushes them towards her abdomen. His head drops to her shoulder, mouths kisses along it.

"This is a miracle," he tells her and her heart drops. "It's a miracle baby."

She shakes her head, pushes him off of her and makes her way down the bunkbed.

"You told me this could never happen, Gar!" her voice is louder now, angrier.

"I-I didn't think it could," he starts, following her down the bunkbed. "My parents told me my DNA could never be compatible with real human DNA."

She's holding her head in her hands, resting her elbows on the wall. She wipes her face and throws her arms around Beast Boy.

"I don't want it," she dares to whisper only now, only here, with Beast Boy's face against her neck, "I think I'm going to kill it."

He hesitates for the longest moment, lips atop her pulse so lightly it almost tickles. Then his hand splays over her stomach, and she feels his teeth press gently against her throat.

* * *

They lie side-by-side for days after that. She skips school, merely stays under Beast Boy's covers, only leaving to eat something or to go to the washroom. Terra traces swirls across his bare chest, follows the line of a scar down to an angular hip bone, taps there lightly.

"Does Robin know?" she asks a few moments later. Beast Boy sighs, stretches and settles back down and encloses arms around her like that can keep her protected from the world and everything in it that would do her harm.

"I don't know. It's impossible to tell with Robin."

"Mm," she concurs, hooking an ankle over his. There is another brief silence, and then suddenly she feels like she wants to be kissing him again, so she swarms upwards and lingers for a second or two just millimetres from his mouth. When her gaze flicks upwards, she finds him regarding her steadily, calmly, sapphire eyes warm and laughing.

"I love you, Terra," he confesses into the tiny space between their faces.

"Love you too," she breathes, and then shuts out the gap, presses her mouth to his, feels it open beneath hers. His hands lift lazily to stroke down her back, bumping along the ridges of her spine, his tongue familiar and reassuring against hers. Kissing him oughtn't to feel so much like coming home.

* * *

It turns out, Robin does know and he is furious. He sits them on the sofa, glaring at them and yelling at the top of his lungs.

"How could you be so careless? Do you know what could happen if the press finds out about this? If the government finds out about this? This can't go on."

Beast Boy stands up at this point, finally nose-to-nose with Robin, causing Cyborg to jerk up from his side of the sofa.

"BB-"

"No, shut up. Robin, what makes you think you can control this too? How the hell did you even find out about this?"

Robin doesn't reply. His knuckles are clenched and he steps back and looks at the girl next to him.

"Raven. How-" Beast Boy's shoulders droop before he sits down. "You knew before me?"

"I could sense it," Raven sighed. "Terra's thoughts are pretty loud."

Terra's eyes narrowed.

Beast Boy looks around at his team hopelessly. "You all knew before I did?"

Starfire lets out a quiet sob.

"Terra, please. You cannot give this baby up."

Terra rose from the couch. "It's not a baby, Starfire. It's a clump of genetically mutated cells. It's not your decision to make. It's mine and mine alone."

Beast Boy is staring very hard at her now. It takes every ounce of willpower he possesses not to tighten his hands on the arms of his chair, to demand an explanation. She will not meet his eyes any longer.

Robin sighed. "Whatever decision you make, Terra, we're with you. We'll find a way to hide it from the public if you decide to keep it and if not-"

"I'm not keeping it," she snaps. "I'm seventeen. Gar is part of a team. The baby is not going to turn out normal, don't you get it? My geokenisis powers have messed up my DNA. Beast Boy's DNA isn't fully human. I don't want to give birth to a...a monster."

From the corner of her eye, she sees Beast Boy wince.

She still won't meet his eyes.

* * *

She gets up early the next morning. Quietly, she climbs down from his bed. She turns to admire her boyfriend. His fang still sticks out when he sleeps, a tiny drop of drool sitting in the corner of his mouth. While asleep, he looks very young.

Beast Boy opens up a heavy eyelid and sees the outline of Terra against the window, her long blonde hair in a messy bun, with pieces sticking out. In the sunlight, her shoulderblades look like wings.

"I'm going with you," he murmurs. She doesn't jump, just turns to face him slowly. She gives him a small smile.

"Of course."

They arrive at the clinic an hour later, after Terra refuses to eat anything for breakfast.

He interlocks his fingers with hers and realizes she's shaking. Before they get out of the car, Beast Boy turns to look at her.

"We don't have to go in right away."

Terra nods, her jaw trembling. Outside the window, she's looking at a mother bouncing her child on her knees, smiling at watching her daughter laugh. A man next to her is tapping his child lightly on the nose, his arm around the woman.

She lets out a shaky breath and her nails are cutting into her palms so hard, she draws blood.

"What are the chances our DNA is compatible, Gar?" she asks him, her knees shaking. "One in ten thousand? One in a million?"

His hands unclench from the steering wheel. "I don't know, Terra. But it works. I will love this baby as much as I love you, Terra. I love you."

She doesn't say anything.

Just as he is about to say something, to do_anything_, to provoke a reaction, she heaves in a great shuddering breath and her hands close like a vice over his. She loops her fingers into his with an alarming desperation, and pushes her body back until they are pressed against every inch of each other.

"Don't tell me that unless you mean it," she insists thickly, still staring straight ahead, her throat raspy with held-back tears, "Don't you dare."

Gar drops his head to one slim pale shoulder, turns his mouth to the skin of her neck, teases kisses against it.

"I mean it," he murmurs there, stamping each word into her throat with a kiss, "You have no idea how deeply I mean it."

Another beat passes, and then Terra is turning, blonde hair tangling around her elbows as she pulls him forward, allows him to crowd her against the seat and trap her there, her fingers wrapping into the front of his shirt.

"Even though Slade," she says, which isn't a sentence at all. Gar comprehends her meaning without even having to try.

"Even though _everything_," he corrects, and he means it. Even though the manipulating, the mocking, the anger and the stress and the mind games.

"Oh God," she chokes out, and tears are really spilling over now, hot and salty against her flushed cheeks, "I'm in love with you too." And then she's kissing him, like it's a fact, like it'll go down in history books or like it's been in them all along already. Gar feels the heat of her mouth against his, the slick slide of her tongue against his own, her hands clenching and splaying spasmodically against his chest. And somewhere between gathering her closer, between her wrapping her arms around his shoulders he realises that he's crying too.

* * *

She gives birth nine months later to a healthy, bouncing baby girl who weighs six and a half lbs (a bit on the skinny side, but its no surprise to both of her twig-like parents), with pale skin and shining emerald eyes.

It's too soon to tell if she has powers.

Beast Boy was on a mission when she went into labour, answered his Titans Communicator to hear Terra screaming, and Starfire ordering to get his "klorbag" butt over there immediately.

Terra's principal allowed her to finish up her studies online, with tutoring once a week. She said it was no different than her childhood in Markovia. She walked the graduation stage as a new mother.

They named her Beatrice Markov-Logan, legally Beatrice Logan, so that it was impossible for the royal family to hunt her down.

They weren't the perfect definition of happy, but it was enough.


	3. Shadows

**a/n:** I think I took the prompt "shadows" pretty badly, but have some more bbterra angst anyway. I tried to squeeze in Gar as much as I could here, even if it's mainly focused on Terra and her nightmares.

* * *

He finds her on his doorstep at five thirty in the morning, soaking wet and smelling of vodka. The sun is already beginning to peek over the sill of the dirty window at the end of the hall and it catches at strands of her hair.

Her heart's in her throat and the only thing that she can think of is throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him until his lips are bruised. She half-expects him to shut the door without another glance, but he puts his arm around her and brings her inside, silence piercing her ears.

He sits her down on his brown couch, and leaves to find her a blanket. Sapphire eyes meet emerald as he lowers himself down so they're level. They don't really need to say anything. Every few weeks, this would happen. She would have enough of Murakami and run away from Amber and Dionne, schoolwork, responsibilities, track meets and just show up. And he would be there, in his small flat with old DVDs and old coffee mugs, away from the Tower and away from _his_ responsibilities.

She looks at him now, wondering how he can even recognize her.

Because she really can't.

"Hey, hey, don't cry," he says, and of course that just makes Terra cry more because Beast Boy shouldn't be being kind to her, he should be avoiding her and fearing her because she has 'traitor' branded on her forehead or something now. But instead he lifts up the covers and snuggles down next to her and she takes a sharp intake of breath as puts his arms around her and nine minutes out of ten she doesn't think of anything at all.

_Nine_ out of ten. Shadows of her father sitting on his throne, watching his daughter sob and wail in the most desperate way, the way only a seven year old can cry.

_"I didn't mean to kill them, I swear! Please, please, daddy, I didn't mean to cause the earthquake, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"_

_"Tara, you're not royal blood," her stepmother sighs warily. "It's bad publicity to have you around."_

_"Brion, please tell daddy that I'm so sorry, he won't see me in his chambers anymore, Brion, where are you going, Brion-"_

Shadows of Slade coming up from behind her as she winces and prepares for what she knows is only going to be another beating.

_"Feeling sentimental about the shapeshifter again?" his cold voice echoes around the cave. "I thought you were faithful, apprentice."_

_"I am, Slade, I am-" And she understands why he picked this place to raise her. No one can hear her scream._

And from that moment on, Terra starts using Beast Boy shamelessly as her own personal dreamcatcher. He probably has a girlfriend to get back to _but that hurts too much to think about so_ whatever but for as long as she can get him to she will sneak into his bed at night and curl up against the curve of his spine and feel the rise and fall of his breath and mimic it and for the first time in months she sleeps without a single nightmare.

"Thank you," she whispers to him at three AM one time, when she thinks he is asleep. She has her forehead against the base of his neck, breathing in his solidity and the reassuring familiar scent of him and feeling sleepy.

"You're welcome," he whispers back, and she starts slightly and then smiles and snuggles closer.


	4. AU

**a/n:** Highschool!AU because these are my faves. *shamelessly takes an already written piece and expands/modifies it to fit the prompt*

Update: I just noticed there was a "school" prompt. brb while i smack my head on a wall.

* * *

_Deep breaths. Counts of seven._

Tara Markov tightens the laces on her red Nike runners. She finds her mark, takes a swig of Gatorade and places it on the charcoal track. She ties her golden hair in a ponytail, stretching her calfs while she's at it.

"Yeah, Tara!" she hears screams from the stands, only to find Kole Weathers, Toni Monetti, and Joseph Wilson clapping wildly. She waves at them and blows an over-dramatic kiss.

"Nice fangirls," Wally West commented, coming out of nowhere and giving her crooked smirk.

"They're my friends," Tara replied shortly. "I don't see any of yours cheering you on."

"That's because I actually have cheerleaders," he waves at a group of freshmen on the sidelines, who start screaming shrilly.

"Jesus."

"Yeah, I guess you could say he's cheering for me too."

She rolled her eyes and tried her best not to hurl. It was honestly just a try-out for a place on the Varsity track team. She knew she had reserved herself a spot last year when Coach Oatway was so impressed with her that she allowed freshmen like Más and Menos to try out as well.

"Well, Tara, let the best man win," said Wally. "Me, Más, or Menos. But realistically, me."

She ignored him. Tara hears nothing except Coach Oatway blowing her whistle, causing the crowd to erupt in cheer. And then she feels the weight coming back just behind her knees, then down to her feet, and then into the earth and she is off and weightless again, flying past the other runners, her arms pumping up and down and the whole world is quiet except for the crunch as she zooms over the gravel in the track.

She glances to her left and there is no one. To her right, a blurred Wally, who's got his chin jutting out as if it would win the race all by itself. She sees a dark-haired boy leaning next to a fence with a wide toothy grin, staring at her as she runs. But the white ribbon is bouncing towards her and she tears past it, racing into the distance till her feet with a mind of their own begin digging up footfalls of dirt and brake her short.

Then all her friends are standing on the side pile with her, banging her on the back and slapping her head with their papers, for she has won again and all the sophomores can stand a little taller for another year.

She comes up to Wally, hand out in handshake. "The best man wins, right?"

He returns the grin. "Nice job, Tara. I'll be seeing you at Track then."

She waves goodbye, returns Kole's hug and laughs at Toni's photos of Tara running with the wind pulling her mouth back and showing her teeth.

"Real attractive, Tara, truly."

She can't help but look for the boy sitting next to the fence, and she sees him. And she smiles. Because he knows that she knows she's good, no doubt about it. He nods to congratulate her and then he smiles. They stand there with this big smile of respect between them. And it's real.

* * *

Garfield Logan is a pro when it comes to Biology AP. He's the only sophomore in that class and he has the second highest mark in class, after Garth Curry beat him by 3%.

(He's not bitter.)

He's the first to finish his test on platyhelminthes, brings it to Mr. Vince's desk and smirks to himself. Mr. Vince hardly notices him approach his desk, his blonde hair frizzled as he tries to fix the class computer.

Gar turns around, catching Garth's eye and shrugging at him confidently. Garth scoffs and scribbles something down on his paper.

He takes the hall pass and walks out of the room, whistling his way to the boy's washroom. He hears a locker slam shut and he turns the corner to see what it is.

Baran Flinders, otherwise known as Mammoth (because of his abornmal non-human size and hairy arms) was pushing Joseph Wilson into a locker.

"We had a deal, pipsqueak." he bared his teeth, pressing his face closer to Joseph's.

Just as Gar was about to step in, he heard a yell come in from the other side of the hallway. Expecting a teacher, he was surprised to see the twig-like blonde girl running towards Baran.

"What do you think you're doing?" she yelled, stepping in between Joseph and Baran, pushing Baran aside with her tiny hand. "Picking on Joseph for money?"

"The band geek owes me math homework," Baran growled. "Step aside, blondie. I don't hit girls."

At this point, students began to peek out of their classrooms to see what the commotion outside was about. A small crowd began to circle them, and Gar moved closer.

"Well, nice to know some double-standards are good," she said, cocking her head.

And then she landed a kick square in his nuts.

There was a loud "OH" from the crowd, people covering their mouths and pointing at the girl. Baran stumbled back, slamming into the opposite side of the lockers. She flicked off pretend dirt from her shoulder and smiled. Joseph grinned at her and she bumped his fist.

"What's the matter? You guys never seen a superhero before?" she turned to the crowd, giving them a crooked smile.

"Tara! Tara! Tara!" a group of freshmen began to chant, and she waved them off.

"Will Tara Markov, Baran Flinders and Joseph Wilson please report themselves to the principal's office right away?" Ms. Bell's voice chimed across the school's PA system. Tara rolled her eyes, and put her arm across Joseph's shoulder as they made their way to the second floor.

Walking towards him, she smiled at Gar and gave him a wink before her curtain of blonde hair turned the corner.

* * *

The entire student body was unable to decide whether or not they liked this strange new girl. Some believed she did not "know her place" as a new student at Jump City High. She behaved as though she had lived in the city all her life, and was far too outspoken and opinionated, a combination that alienated a few members of said student body. Others admired her for her courage and thought of her as someone who was genuinely _nice – _just slightly misunderstood, that's all. Whether they were a member of Team Tara or not, however, most students agreed that there was something unique about her.

At lunch, Gar plucks up the courage to talk to her.

"People are talking about you," Gar told Tara. He slid his lunch tray onto the table where Tara was sitting and sat down across from her.

They were in the cafeteria. It was Thursday, and Tara had woken up that morning feeling eternally grateful that the week was _nearly _over. It had been a rough couple of days. She was looking forward to some time off. "Oh really?" Tara said disinterestedly, biting into an apple. "What are they saying?"

"So far, the general consensus is either that you're slightly insane," he said, "or just plain awesome."

"Yeah?" she chewed thoughtfully for a while. "And what do _you _think?"

He raised an eyebrow. "A little bit of both," he said matter-of-factly.

That made her smile. "I'm Tara, by the way."

"Yeah, I know," he returned her smile and regretted those words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

_Nice_, he thought. _She thinks you're a stalker._

"I'm Garfield," he replied, quickly filling his mouth with salad to shut himself up.

"Garfield!" she exclaimed. "Like the fat orange cat?"

He nodded, jokingly wary, hearing that one countless times before.

At that moment, Toni and her boyfriend, Isaiah Crockett appeared at the table, both holding trays of their own. Toni exhaled loudly as she sat down. "I'm really, really nervous about tomorrow."

"The most important thing is that you don't lose Battle of the Bands," Isaiah said, waving his fork in the air as he spoke. "Or you could lose your 30 bucks."

"Yeah, because it's that simple," Toni rolled her eyes.

"Where's Joseph?" Tara asked.

"Eating lunch in the principal's office," Toni replied. "Also known as his dad's office."

"Yo, Gar!" he heard Victor Stone call him over to the senior's table, his usual eating spot.

"I'll see you around, Tara!"

And with that, Gar stood up and left. Tara watched him walk away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Toni leaned in and winked. "So. Tara. Interested?"

Tara laughed. "No, of course not."

Toni shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to ask. A lot of girls are. But don't say that, it'll just go to his head."

"True," Isaiah nodded sagely, his mouth full of meat loaf.

"Huh," Tara looked back at the current topic of their conversation who was nearing the cafeteria exit doors. She supposed she could see what people found so attractive about him. He _was _very good-looking (very, very good-looking). "But I thought between the two of you, _you _were the ladykiller, Isaiah."

"Don't get me wrong. I steal my fair share of hearts. I stole this one's, didn't I?" he laughed, pointing at Toni. "How can I not? Just look at these muscles, my perfectly tousled hair, my friendly and welcoming smile..."

"Do go on," Toni groaned.

Isaiah swallowed his food and continued. "But really, a _lot _of girls are into Gar."

"They just don't talk about it publicly," Toni said. "But I'm a girl, and I use the girls' changing room, and you _hear _things in there," she shuddered, "Things I do not want to repeat."

"I still think I'm the better-looking one," Isaiah said.


End file.
